and that life itself could not aspire
by McMuffin
Summary: Robin and Isabella meet in Limbo, awaiting their fate in Heaven or Hell. Will they be able to forgive each other and rekindle their romance in the afterlife?


I finally saw Robin Hood season 3, and well, Robin/Isabella have taken over my mind. This is the first of a few oneshots that I _have_ to write. I hope you guys like it, this is Dead!Robin and Dead!Isabella in Limbo after the finale.

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_and that life itself could not aspire_  
_to have someone be so admired_  
_i threw creation to my kin_  
_with a silence broken by a whispered wind._

He wakes up lying in dirt; this much he knows. His head hurts and his neck feels tender, a slight throbbing in his back - perhaps due to the strange position he slept in. He realizes there's a rock under his head, and as he gazes around, there's certainly no forest. There's just dark red-colored dirt, millions of particles of it, yet he smells a confusing mix of smoke and flowers, though none of the landscape indicates either. He's stretching out his back, wiggling his toes in his boots - wait, where are his boots? Come to think of it, where are his clothes? He spares a glance down his body. He's stark naked, a perspiring sheen on his chest as the light bounces off of the glistening muscles. There's no direct source of light, so he hesitates to call it the sun, and in the distance, there's a dark shadow cast as if by an invisible rain cloud.

He pushes himself up, wondering where the hell he is and why he's no longer lying in the forest, talking to his beloved Marian and holding her close to him. He frowns suddenly, thinking this could be the afterlife, but if so, he's still perplexed as to where his clothes are. He'd really like a pair of pants, for starters. He's heard everyone's in the afterlife, and he doesn't quite fancy being in public in the nude. He scowls, turns around to look at his surroundings from a standing view, when he notices a pair of white trousers draped over a rock nearby where his head previously lay.

"Well, that's convenient," he mutters, walking to pick up the pants. He pulls them on, tugging on the strings to hold them in place on his lips. Then he bends down to roll up the ends, making the just-too-long pants the right length. He hears a movement behind him, Marian, he hopes, and stands up straight, smiling, when he turns to rind himself faced with a twenty-inch long scorpion.

He screams, and sprints away to the left, right, wherever; he's lost all sense of direction in this place. There's a sinister-looking dust-cloud in the direction he's running, a giant scorpion behind him and that lightless shadow of land to the left, so he heads right, veering towards more dirt. He glances behind him, the creature a few paces behind, when he trips on a log, or something.

"Well, well, well, Robin Hood, I certainly didn't expect to see you here," a voice cuts through the air, as his face stays planted in the dirt. He can practically see her before his eyes; her voice is that clear.

"Isabella?" he asks, scurrying to his feet, ready to run from the scorpion that is now nowhere to be found, "Wh…" he frowns when he actually sees her, splayed out in the dirt, that coy smile on her lips.

"Hmm, well you're not looking how I would've expected you... But clearly you've discovered the power of thought..." Isabella muses, studying his panting body as she too gets to her feet, leaving her previously reclining position.

"What is going on?" Robin demands, resting his hands on his knees and staring up at her through a forehead of sticky hair. She's in an emerald-colored silk dress with nothing on her feet, her midnight curls tangled behind her. While he's tired and hot, she seems cool and not at all fazed by the heat, "Explain this!"

"Well, you see, Robin," she steps closer to him, "I would have expected - preferred, even - you to be here without any..." her eyes drop to his pants, "Clothes, but it seems you have already mastered the art of willing for something and having it appear," a smirk graces her lips, "You have also learnt that every will has a consequence."

He frowns and stands up to his full height, "You're saying that me willing for pants created that scorpion?"

She nods. "Yes."

"How do you know this?" Robin drags his dirty fingers through his hair.

"Because I discovered it a few weeks ago when I was hungry and wanted food, but got a sandstorm in response and a reminder that you don't actually need to eat here," she replies, astounded that he's talking to her quite calmly.

"Where is here?" he looks around.

"Purgatory," Isabella states.

"Purgatory? That's before Heaven..." Robin frowns, "Why - "

"Oh, I know you're wondering why I'm here, believe me. Although, if you prefer the term Limbo, that may be more accurate for our situation."

"I think I'll stick to Limbo, it makes sense, considering you're here," he tells her harshly.

A wild laugh leaves her lips for a brief moment, "That's more like it."

"What?" he spits at her like the words are on fire and scolding his lips.

"An indication of your hatred, I was wondering when I'd see that," her voice is monotone and sweet - he despises this ability to stay composed.

"You killed me!" He shouts at her, rushing forward, preferring physical over tongue.

She steps back quickly, defending herself, "And you killed me. I'd say we're pretty even."

"Even? We're not at all even!" he screams, veins bulging in his forehead. He can't explain his undecipherable feelings towards the woman so obscure from what she once seemed to be, "You're a cold blooded killer; you want nothing for no one except yourself."

"That's not true!" her lips open into a perfect circle, the edges of the pink skin tarnished from lack of water - and lack of colored stain. "I wanted things for you! I wanted things for my brother! I wanted..." she pauses in her bitter rebuttal, "I wanted so many things, but none ever came true."

"And that justifies your evil?"

"I'd hardly call what I did evil - "

"You poisoned me!"

"You blew me up!" She exclaims, an echo of recent words playing in her mind, reverberating through the canals of her inner ear, firing the neurons in her brain and pumping anger through her bloodstream.

"You shot a defenseless man. Killed your husband! - "

"Oh, my husband deserved to die for everything he did to me! And what about all of those people you've killed?" Hatred burns in her eyes as he tries to make her the wrongdoer when he's been just as wrong. Though their beliefs may differ, she doesn't want to push the blame around any longer. She's spent her life blaming people - her brother, her husband, Robin - she doesn't want to do it any longer. However, she will justify her actions by juxtaposing them with his.

"I was helping the people of England!" Robin retorts, his eyes boring down into hers. Surprisingly they're both inert, simply staring at the other, neither making any more moves towards physical violence.

"You may have helped a lot of people, but you took a lot of lives along the way," Isabella whispers.

"I had to take their lives to give what they guarded to the poor. The peasants need food and money, the nobles don't."

"And you don't think those guards were innocent? Hundreds of them? Serving their master - good or bad - for some money and food? Innocent soldiers killed for the good of the peasants?" Robin's stunned for a moment at her compassion, and she takes the opportunity to give him a smug grin and a cocky sentence, "And you wonder why you're stuck here with me."

"At least I killed with good intentions! I killed to help people!"

"You shouldn't have," Isabella mutters quietly.

"What? Why not?" he can barely get the words out, her constant surprises are twisting his perspective, making him challenge himself.

"Because, you shouldn't get everything handed to you on a silver platter when things are tough. It's not how life works. They need to learn that. They need to know that they can't always take the easy way out; they need to learn to look after themselves, do things for themselves... Not be cowards and look up to a _God_ named Robin Hood."

"I'd be careful there, Isabella, impious talk like that will get you sent straight to Hell."

She shrugs nonchalantly, "Better than being stuck here with you."

Robin is silent for a while, studying the red land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over it, pondering the inexhaustible qualities of this afterlife. He's agonizingly aware of the proximity of Isabella to him, the pain in his chest from her presence growing insurmountably and the need to tear her to pieces with words is almost irresistible. He desperately wants to know the way her mind works, but he's partially afraid to discover the pieces to her puzzle.

"Do you hate me, Robin?" she asks softly, curiously. Her voice carries the tone of a child - young, romantic, naive. He doesn't reply, his mind carrying out a series of complex equations to answer her loaded question. She asks another, well; rather, she says a statement. "You loved me once... They're two sides of the same coin. Love and hate... Which side are you currently on?"

Robin slides a hand across his harsh stubble and breaks his fixation on the horizon. "The coin is standing upright on its edge."

Isabella laughs harshly - the same bitter, wild laugh that he heard briefly before. "That's a coward's answer. Come on, Robin, give me a proper answer. You're not a - "

She doesn't get to proceed with her taunting as a loud smacking noise is ringing out and his hand is smeared against her cheek for a slice of a second before it's replaced with a stinging sensation. A gasp flees her lips and a flash of her brother's face passes before her eyes. He was the last person to slap her, and she's always thought Robin had a little more dignity than a slap.

Robin too gasps, reaching up to touch her face in apology for slapping her. He wouldn't normally do that, and despite the anger he feels for her, they're already dead so he feels like further punishment is just cruel. She flinches away from his hand, reminiscent of her husband's lashings, and he frowns a little. She notices his creased brows and is quick to compose herself.

"Next time you want me to shut up, just tell me," she tells him.

"Can I will you to shut up?" he asks with a hint of a smile on his lips.

"That will earn you a snake in return," she tells him and he chuckles, until he realizes she's serious.

"How do you know?" he asks.

"I willed the Sheriff to shut up, and then a snake appeared, well, two actually because I wished Guy to shut up too."

"Wait, they're here?"

"Were. They both left about a week ago," Robin blinks at this information as Isabella muses to herself, "Whether they're in Heaven or Hell I'm not sure."

"You said a week ago..." Robin's voice is slow, each word punctuated with a pause.

"Time moves a little differently up here, it seems."

"Up here? This place seems more like a 'down here' considering how bad it is," Robin mutters.

"Aw, come now, it's not that bad... No need to eat, drink, sleep... You can will anything to happen as long as you're willing to deal with the consequences and run far enough away from the things that can't kill us but _can_ hurt us. Plus you're here."

"Flattery, Isabella? That's a new one," Robin twists his fingers through each other.

"I have decided it's not worth it to hate you anymore, we're dead... Those words we exchanged before made me realize this... As did your slap - " she holds up a hand when Robin tries to defend himself, " - I couldn't retaliated, but it's not worth it, and any fights we have can't end in death again," she cracks a smile and he returns it.

"So... We're going to be friends now that we're dead?" He shows her his teeth in a wide grin.

"If you'd like."

Robin drops to the dirt, his bare feet aching from all of the standing on the harsh terrain. He looks up at her and instinctively holds a hand up to block the glare of the Sun - until he remembers that there is no Sun, no direct source of light. Isabella stands above him, her hands on her hips, the emerald dress bunched in her fists.

"Did you make nice with Guy and the Sheriff when they were here?" he asks up at her with a smirk.

"I made the effort to avoid them. Besides, they weren't here more than two days the decision was quicker than the decisions for you and I," she slowly lowers herself to the ground, preparing to become dusty and dirty.

"So does anyone who dies end up here with us?" Robin asks.

"I've only seen a handful of people - Guy, the Sheriff, and some soldiers - and I knew them all before they died," she clasps her fingers around her knees, drawing them to her chest.

"So maybe we only see people we knew when they were alive?" he rests his hands on his knees.

"Perhaps," she utters as the sky suddenly starts to turn dark, and as Robin gazes around it turns almost pitch black. With this darkness comes a sudden drowsiness.

"What just happened?" he asks, looking back towards her yet unable to see her.

"It's night time," her voice replies dully.

"There are no stars."

"It's Limbo."

"It's freezing."

"Quit complaining."

"Just because you're used to this place..."

"Okay, the rules are: no complaining, give what you're given and deal with it, don't will anything to happen because it will happen and you'll probably have to run away from something," she yawns at the end of this and he laughs.

"What if the thought is fleeting? Will it happen?"

"No, you've got to really want it."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"Isabella?" he asks as he shifts in the dirt.

"What?" she responds between yawning and lying down.

"I'm still cold."

"You're Robin Hood, aren't you accustomed to cold nights?"

"I usually have more clothes on and a bed... Or at least a nearby fire."

"I suppose we could huddle," she's not at all opposed to the idea, her primal instincts remembering his warm body. He laughs softly and rolls over towards her, reaching out to feel her body. He touches soft flesh and she lets out a grunt. A very un-Isabella-like grunt.

"Hood," her commanding voice makes him realize what he's touching.

"Sorry," he mutters halfheartedly and retracts his hand, smiling as she rolls onto her other side and wriggles backward until her back's pressed into his chest.

"Good night," she mumbles.

"Oh, how long is nigh time here?"

"I don't know!" she snaps. "I just know that I wake up when it's day time and I sleep when it's night time."

"No need to get angry, Isabella," he chuckles sleepily. "Good night, friend."

She doesn't reply because she's already asleep, the instant lethargy that parallels night works quickly and he's soon sound asleep too, his arms around her and his face slightly muffled by her hair. They fit well against each other, and despite their hatred a mere twelve Earth-hours ago; they've slipped back into the comfortableness they once shared.

* * *

She awakens in his arms with a yawn and a smile on her lips when she realizes she wasn't at all cold the last night. Her stomach growls with the ever-present need for food, but with a few deep breaths she manages to calm it and focus on calming her raging thirst. Drinking and eating is unnecessary and she doesn't want to expend her energy on running from the effects of conjuring food. Robin wakes up behind her with a mutter about breakfast, and she pries herself free from his hold, ready to hear his complaints about sustenance.

"My god, the sky is bright," he mutters as he rolls onto his chest away from her, burying his face in the desert.

"Good morning, sunshine," she chirps at him as she brushes her dress off, a brilliant smile gracing her face when he turns over, his face covered in dirt, sand, dust.

"Urg... I am Robin Hood! No more complaining!" he announces as he dusts off his face.

Isabella giggles. "Good luck with that. It's taken me a week to learn to stop. Just wait until your need for breakfast kicks in."

On cue, his stomach starts to growl and he glances down at his chest with a frown, "Blasts."

"The bonus of not needing any food or water is to don't need to go to the bathroom," the brunette tells him as she trots off away from him.

"Where are you going?" he calls after her, leaping to his feet.

"Just stretching my legs," she replies over her shoulder, turning and skipping back to him with a laugh, "Glorious morning, hey?"

He blinks, "Are you feeling well?"

"I'm feeling fine, Hood," her voice fleeing from the airy sound it briefly adapted and returns to its usual tone. "Just trying out something new. That's the beauty of this place, you can try out whatever you like."

Robin shakes his head in amusement. "You're insane."

She giggles and steps up to him on tiptoes, planting a kiss on his lips. "Of course I am!"

He's taken aback by the sudden kiss, but it tempts him for more and he catches her by the shoulder, swings her around and grips her smooth dress in his firm hands as he lowers his mouth to hers. Isabella grins into the kiss, her lips dry against his, not at all soft like their previous kisses, but his too are rough, and his cheeks and chin are covered by weeks of unshaven stubble. Robin keeps his mouth touching hers for a few moments more, before parting his lips and probing the entrance to her mouth with his tongue. A conversation about her being a rubbish kisser enters his mind, and when she swirls her tongue against his and creates shivers down his spine, he knows that was completely untrue of him to say. He tangles his fingers through the ends of her messy hair and is about to part from her lips and ask where they're going from here, and if she too has forgiven him, when there is a loud crack in the sky and suddenly they're not in Limbo but tumbling. Tumbling up, down, left, right, spiraling into nowhere and everywhere and leaving another world. They land on a soft surface, grass perhaps, surrounded by a damp mist.

"Is this Heaven?" Isabella asks timidly, her hand sliding down to meet his.

"I'm not sure... I think so," he replies, turning to glance into her weary eyes. His eyes smile into her dull green ones, and the creases at the corners of his prompt hers to sparkle and her face to light up in a matching smile.

Wherever they are, they're together, so it doesn't matter. This is eternal. And they have each other.

* * *

The end.


End file.
